“On that particular occasion, I was acting entirely on the instinct to survive. I honestly don’t know how I managed to mount that horse on my own.”
Beau brushed his hand on her waist, momentarily distracting her from her fears.
“Your instincts are sound. Now stop stalling. Reach up and brush your fingers down the length of his nose. Don’t hesitate. Horses cannot stand hesitant people.” He spoke of the animal in such a fond way that Philippa had to smile.
She did her best to quell her nerves and stroked the horse’s nose. It was a black gelding with a white star on its forehead right between its eyes. She brushed back its mane to better see the white painted star. The horse huffed softly and bumped its nose against her arm.
“See? He’s formed an attachment to you already.”
She continued to stroke him as Beau moved around her to the side of the horse. Philippa felt quite unsure of herself, even though she looked every bit the equestrian in her Bishop’s blue-colored riding habit. She even wore a jaunty hat that was pinned to her hair. Louisa had said she looked very smart that morning before she and Beau had set out.
It had only been a week since the ball, yet between dinners, parties, paying calls and afternoon teas, she’d felt like she’d lived a lifetime as a lady already. It was the oddest feeling, and it left her strangely unsettled.
Philippa listened to Beau speak to the horse in gentle tones while he fit a blanket and saddle on its back. She couldn’t help but notice with trepidation that he had prepared a sidesaddle.
“Must I write a sidesaddle? The few times I have ridden a horse it has always been astride.”
“A lady astride would be too much of the wrong kind of attention for town. In the country, of course you may ride as you wish.” He offered her an apologetic look. “For today, we will walk slowly, and I shall be by your side.”
Philippa bit her lip as Beau tightened the girth and patted the horse’s neck. “He’s ready for you.”
She looked at the horse’s solemn eyes again as he chewed on his bit. “Does he have a name?”
Beau touched the horse’s nose and then checked the bridle again. “Albus.”
“Albus?” Philippa wrinkled her nose. “For a horse?”
“Absolutely. A noble creature deserves a noble name. Albus was the name of my maternal grandfather. I never had the chance to meet him, but my mother said he was a kind soul who loved fiercely.”
“Oh…” Philippa’s face heated. “That is a lovely name indeed.”
Beau gave her an amused look. “You’re stalling again. Come here.”
He grabbed her by the waist and before she could protest he’d set her upon Albus’s back. He showed her how to arrange her legs to sit properly, then handed her the reins. Beau mounted a dappled gray horse named Lady, one that would have made most men look feminine, but not Beau. Riding the lovely gray mare only made him look more attractive and confident. He and Lady rode well, like two halves of a split heart reunited.
She tried not to think about her fear of riding and instead focused on Beau. “Why do you ride a mare? Most men prefer geldings or stallions, do they not?”
He clicked his teeth and Lady trotted out into the sunlight with Philippa and Albus right behind them. “I rescued Lady from a man who took pleasure in beating his animals. I caught him trying to whip her after he’d ridden her to exhaustion.” He stroked a hand down the mare’s neck where faint scars striped her fine gray coat. She touched her own neck, her heart going out to the horse. They had both been ill-used by cruel men.
“How did you do that? A man’s property usually isn’t something he would surrender willingly.”
“Indeed not,” he agreed. “The man wouldn’t let me buy her, either. So, I challenged him to a duel. I told him that he’d offended me by refusing my offer. When I told him my name, he threw the reins at me and stormed off.”
“You didn’t fight him then?”
“Sadly no. Though I would have liked to fire a shot at his black heart.”
Philippa couldn’t contain her gasp. Why was it that a healthy man always seemed to look for trouble and throw themselves into danger with such reckless ease? At least that’s how Roger put it when he shared stories with her of Lord Lennox and his friends and they danger they got into before they were married.
“Have you fought many duels?” Philippa asked, dreading to hear his answer.
“A fair few. I’ve won all of them, but I’ve never killed a man. I suspect Lady’s previous owner knew of my record once I divulged my name.”
Philippa didn’t know what to say. She was puzzled by Beau. He was dangerous, protective, fierce, yet there was vulnerability and a gentleness to him that came out when she least expected it. It seemed he had a passion for rescuing unfortunate creatures, whether they were horses or upstairs maids. Either way, she was forever in his debt.
“Well I am glad you rescued her. It seems to be a particular habit of yours.”
“What? Dueling?” Beau asked.
“Rescuing ladies.”
His rich laugh made her grin and he leaned over to whisper in her ear. “I suppose I ought to make a career out of it. The benefits are quite worthwhile.” He winked at her and she felt her spirits buoyed.
They rode their horses through Hyde Park and Philippa found herself relaxing as Albus stayed close to Lady’s side without much coaxing. He was as gentle as Beau had assured her he would be.
“Feeling more confident?” Beau asked as they entered a part of Hyde Park which had more riders. Philippa did her best to act the part of the lady she was masquerading as. Two gentleman rode opposite them with open interest as they looked between her and Beau.
“People are staring at us,” she said when she and Beau were out of earshot.
“It’s me,” Beau said. “It must be quite a shock to see me riding with a lady. Everyone knows I never ride with innocent creatures like you.” He was teasing her, but Philippa felt embarrassed by the moniker, nonetheless.
“I’m not that innocent,” she grumbled.
“You are, darling. More than you know.” His stare met hers for a moment too long and her heart fluttered in response, but she didn’t wish to look away as this connection between them grew. As he spoke again, his voice deepened, a slight huskiness to it making her dizzy with excitement.
“There is nothing one should apologize for when it comes to being innocent. I hope you stay that way as long as you can. Life finds a way of robbing one of that glorious innocence far too soon.”
He looked away then, a note of melancholy to his tone that stirred her heart and forced an exhalation of breath from her lungs. He must have been speaking of losing his parents.
“Oh, Beau, I’m”
“Mr. Boudreaux!” A woman called out, interrupted Philippa. The woman rode up alongside them, smiling broadly at Beau. She had no chaperone, but a trio of other ladies awaited her at a distance, clearly members of her riding party.
He nodded in polite greeting. “Miss Monroe.”
Philippa studied the woman. She had dark hair and black eyes, and her face, while pretty, held a subtle meanness that Philippa recognized instinctively. She’d seen it cast her way far too often in the past. She didn’t keep her eyes on the woman long in case she drew her attention. It was best to stay away from women like this.
“Miss Monroe, please allow me to introduce you to my ward, Miss Wilson. Philippa, this is Miss Courtney Monroe.”
“Pleasure,” Courtney purred, but there was a subtle threat in the sound.
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Philippa replied.
“However did you become burdened with a ward? It must be a dreadful thing to be responsible for some poor creature.” Courtney pretended that Philippa was not even present.
“A friend from the country passed away and he sent his daughter to me in hopes that I would watch over her until she turns twenty-one next year.”
“Dreadful, simply dreadful. What must I do to rescue you, my
sweet Beau?”
Beau laughed at that and the sound knifed Philippa’s heart. Did he actually agree with this woman? That helping her and saving her life was a burden?
“It’s not as bad as all that,” Beau replied. “I rather enjoyed myself at the ball last evening.”
“At the Duchess of Essex’s home? Yes, I heard you did a fair amount of dancing for a man who usually avoids it. You are a wonderful dancer. I always love it when we waltz.” Courtney shot Philippa a triumphant smile while Beau was looking down at his horse for a brief moment.
“And what of you, Miss Monroe? I didn’t see you last night.” Beau said.
“Oh…” Courtney’s face pinkened with a delicate blush, but her eyes were dark with rage. “Lady Essex no longer seems to care for me. She dared to give me the cut direct the other day.”
“That doesn’t sound like Emily,” Beau said, his eyes wide in surprise.
“Well, she did. To be perfectly honest, I’ve always thought her far too presumptuous. It’s as though she’s forgotten that she wasn’t always a duchess. I’m the daughter of an earl. My pedigree makes me far more important than her. She forgets that breeding matters. Doesn’t it, Miss Wilson?”
The look Courtney gave her had a distinctively sinister nature that only cruel women gave to those they wished to grind beneath their expensive riding boots.
Philippa was furious. No one should speak of Lady Essex that way. She was a genuinely lovely person, and no doubt if Miss Monroe had been given the cut, it had been for good reason. “Actually, Miss Monroe, I must respectfully disagree. Breeding is not what defines someone’s character. Lady Essex is one of the finest women I know.”
Courtney’s eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m sure you’re right.” But her tone said she didn’t agree at all.
“I do hope you and Emily will resolve your issues,” Beau said.
“I’m sure she’ll come around.” Courtney turned a bright smile upon Beau and once again dismissed Philippa’s existence entirely. “Are you riding all morning?” Courtney asked him.
“No, this is Philippa’s first ride. We are only riding for a short time.”
“You don’t know how to ride? Poor thing. How unfortunate.” Courtney’s smile looked far more like a sneer.
Philippa gripped her reins tight and tried not to scowl at her.
“She’s doing rather well,” Beau said with pride, which soothed Philippa’s temper bit.
“Oh, look Beau!” Courtney pointed out a pair of riders heading their way. Beau waved at the men, who glanced at Philippa with open curiosity.
“I’ll only be a moment, Philippa.” He maneuvered his horse across the dirt path to speak with the two gentlemen.
“Beau, wait!” she gasped, tugging on her reins. Albus gave a disgruntled snort, wanting to stay close to Lady.
“You’ll be fine. You’re doing well,” Beau assured her before he steered Lady away and abandoned Philippa to with the viper.
“So, you are living with Beau?” Courtney asked, a hint of an edge to her tone.
“Yes, per my father’s request.”
“And where did you say you were from?” A cunning light in her eyes made Philippa’s nerves tighten.
“Sussex, a small town, just outside of Arundel.” She prayed this woman didn’t know anyone from Arundel.
“Ahh… The Duke of Norfolk’s home, Arundel. Are you acquainted with him?”
Philippa knew better than to fall for that trap. “No.”
“Shall we ride on for a bit? I’m certain Beau can catch up.”
“I really think rather we should wait”
Whack! Courtney brought the edge of a riding crop down on Albus’ flank and the horse reared up on its hind legs, screeching with pain.
Philippa screamed and nearly fell off as the horse planted its front legs back on the ground with a thud. She had only a fraction of a second to control herself as Albus tore off down the dirt lane, scattering the other riders with shouts of panic.
The next few moments were a wild blur, yet Philippa seemed to experience it vividly, raw, and so full of terror she would never forget what happened.
Albus left the safety of the path and tore through the bushes, ripping through brambles and sharp branches. But the pain, while sharp, was brief. Her sole focus was staying on the horse’s back. When he approached a low hedge at full speed, Philippa lowered her body over his neck and tried to move with him.
Albus leapt over the hedge and somehow she stayed on top of him…until another rider cut across the horse’s path and he veered. The sharp turn sent them both to the ground. Philippa didn’t even have the breath to scream before the horse came down on top of her.
She must have passed out, Philippa mused as she looked at the ring of trees above her. The red and gold leaves whispered like fine ladies in a ball, the gossip beyond her hearing as she lay far beneath them… Her body ached with pain.
Suddenly a large black face with a white star peered down at her. Albus nudged her cheek, huffing softly with what she took for an equine apology.
“It wasn’t your fault,” she whispered, though the words made her chest twinge with pain.
“Philippa!” Beau’s terror stricken shouts reached her but she was still too shaken to move. Beau soon appeared in her line of vision as he knelt down beside her. “Christ! Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere…” She blinked back tears as he cupped her face and stared down into her eyes. He looked so frightened that it scared her even more. How badly hurt was she?
“Beau? Is the poor creature all right?” Courtney’s voice intruded upon the relief Philippa felt at being alone with Beau.
A cold fury gathered inside Philippa like a black cloud as she struggled past her pain and discomfort to sit up. Courtney rode closer, her face a mock expression of concern.
“Oh dear. She should have taken care to learn to ride before coming to London.”
“Philippa, perhaps you should lay back down,” Beau suggested.
It was far too late for that. Philippa stood on violently shaking legs and as Courtney slid off her horse and came over to them. Philippa snatched the woman’s riding crop from her grasp and swung it hard, smacking Courtney across her backside.
“How do you like it?” Philippa snarled. She hit the woman again, and raised her arm for a third strike, but Beau snatched the crop and threw it to the ground.
“Philippa, stop that at once, do you hear me?” he bellowed.
Philippa shrank away from him, not from fear, but shame. She stumbled back to Albus, seeking comfort in the horse’s tall, solid presence and buried her face in his neck.
Beau spoke to Courtney a moment, extending his deepest apologies.
“She’s a nasty little hoyden, Beau. Send that brat back to the country where she belongs,” Courtney cried out far too loudly.
Philippa closed her eyes, fresh tears making the tip of her nose sting. She heard Courtney leave, but didn’t dare look at her again. After a moment she sensed Beau standing beside her.
“That was badly done, Philippa, badly done indeed. You struck another lady.” Beau’s disapproval and disappointment were layered with anger. “I think we’d better go straight home.”
Philippa wanted to go home to her parents. To hide from the humiliation of this moment. Beau assisted her back onto her horse. It only deepened her shame as she was forced to ride past dozens of spectators to her disastrous adventure.
Beau remained tall and proud in his saddle, but Philippa slumped, curling in on herself as they rode in silence back to the stables by the park. Beau saw to Lady’s care first and then assisted her down from Albus.
“He’s hurt,” she whispered, pointing to the scratches on his legs.
Beau said not a word as he retrieved a pot of salve from a box in Albus’s stall and applied it liberally to the scrapes.
“She hit him, Beau. Hit him with her crop so hard he screamed,” she added, still in that quiet voice which made Beau pause.
<
br /> “She did what?”
“She waited for you and Lady to be far enough away that you wouldn’t see.”
Beau still didn’t look at her as he ran his palms over Albus’s body.
“Sorry, old boy. I didn’t know. Forgive me?” He stroked the horse’s long face and Albus half-closed his eyes and shifted his stance so one back leg bent in as he relaxed. Then Beau blanketed him and secured him in his stall.
Philippa followed Beau to the door of the stables where he waved down a passing hackney to take them home. They rode home in silence, the air filled with tension. She’d never felt so alone and…cold now that Beau was angry with her. She wanted desperately to run back to the safety of her parents’ home, or the Lennox House and her downstairs family. She bit her lip hard as she shot glances at Beau. He stared straight ahead at some spot on the wall of the coach. His eyes were vacant, as though his thoughts were miles away.
When they entered Boudreaux Hall, Philippa rushed straight to her room and closed the door.
She had acted no different than Beau had with the man abusing Lady, yet she was drowning in shame. Each second of that encounter in the park latched itself around her, pulling her down into its murky depths. She lay on the bed, her body still hurting from the fall, every bone and bit of sinew felt bruised and stretched beyond normal. But none of that compared to the look of disappointment she saw in Beau’s eyes.
That pain would never go away.
* * *
Beau sat alone in the dining room, his gaze darting to the grandfather clock in the corner. He’d been alone with his thoughts for five hours now. Stoddard entered the room and looked at the footman and then at Beau.
“Shall I have the first course brought in, sir?” the butler asked politely.
Beau pulled himself from his ruminations. “What?”
“The first course, sir. It doesn’t appear that Miss Wilson will be joining you. Mrs. Gronow just informed me that the young lady has refused dinner, claiming she doesn’t feel well.”
Guilt gnawed at him from the inside. Had he been too harsh on her today at the park? Probably… Yes. Definitely. He’d seen Albus roll over onto her and if she hadn’t stood up and hit Miss Monroe, he would have feared she’d been terribly hurt. Those feelings had made him react more strongly to her actions than he’d intended. And when he’d learned of her reasons…
Boudreaux’s Lady Page 14